


Poetry and Flowers

by setepenre_set



Series: Bouquet [1]
Category: Megamind (2010)
Genre: F/M, Misunderstandings, Romance, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 09:22:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9715139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/setepenre_set/pseuds/setepenre_set
Summary: Roxanne is disconcerted when she receives a mysterious gift on Valentine’s Day.





	

It comes on Valentine’s Day, delivered to Roxanne’s desk, waiting there for her when she walks in.

Her eyes go wide when she sees the bouquet. What—who in the world would be sending her flowers?

It’s a very large arrangement, interesting, too; not just ordinary roses. Some of the flowers she doesn’t even recognize.

There’s a slim, dark-blue book beneath the vase of flowers; she slips it out and looks at it curiously, flipping it open to the first page. 

> _your slightest look easily will unclose me_  
>  _though i have closed myself as fingers,_  
>  _you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens_  
>  _(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose_

Roxanne feels her face go hot.

She turns to the next page. 

> _I go so far as to think that you own the universe._  
>  _I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains, bluebells,_  
>  _dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses._  
>  _I want_
> 
> _to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees._

Roxanne slams the book shut.

Love poetry? Who the hell would send her flowers and love poems? On Valentine’s Day? What the hell is this?

She puts the book down quickly on her desk.

There’s a card, in the flowers. She plucks it out and looks at it.

The card is small and white—nothing written on it but a sharp black—

**_M._ **

“Oh, your boyfriend got you flowers!” Katie exclaims from over Roxanne’s shoulder.

Roxanne jumps, card fluttering from nerveless fingers.

“My—my what?”

Katie gives her a look that says she’s wondering if Roxanne has lost her mind.

“Your boyfriend,” she says. “You know. M. For Metro Man.”

“…ahahahah! Yes! Of course! M! For Metro Man!” Roxanne says.

Katie gives her a look that says she’s pretty sure Roxanne has lost her mind, and then she goes back to her desk.

* * *

 

But.

See.

Here’s the thing.

Metro Man is not Roxanne’s boyfriend. They are not dating.

Not.

Dating.

Wayne pretends to his mother that they are, and Roxanne lets him, even though she’d really prefer that he just go ahead and explain to his mother that he’s aromantic. Lady Scott loves her son; she’d understand, eventually, Roxanne thinks, if Wayne explained. But, then, Roxanne knows that coming out to her own mother as bisexual didn’t exactly go well, so she does get why Wayne’s worried. That’s why Roxanne lets Wayne lie to his mother about dating her.

But he’s never really acted like they’re dating (he doesn’t have to; the public fills in the blanks without any evidence anyway). So there’s no reason for him to have sent her flowers and poetry.

Also, Wayne overdoes the Metro Man thing, yes, but he isn’t going to give her a card with his logo on it instead of his name, because that would be ridiculous. Even for him.

So.

Logically, that means that someone else sent her the presents.

Someone else whose name starts with M, and let’s put it this way, Roxanne is pretty sure Minion isn’t the one sending her poems and flowers.

Maybe it’s a joke.

Maybe it’s a trap.

Maybe it’s a trap and a joke, maybe—

Roxanne eyes the gifts with deep suspicion.

Okay. All right. Focus, Roxanne; think this through.

The poems are the most—emotionally…disconcerting part of the present (because they seem to indicate a depth of sincerity unmatched by the flowers. Roxanne can picture Megamind giving her a showy bouquet as a joke, but it’s more difficult to see him doing the same thing with a book of love poetry.

So. If the presents are a trap, then the poems are probably meant to be the distraction and the flowers are the dangerous part

Roxanne looks at the vase of flowers with even deeper suspicion than before, then carefully pushes it to the edge of her desk, sits down, and opens up her laptop. Maybe one of the flowers has some sort of—hallucinatory pollen or something…

After some searching, she finds a site with a database of flowers, organized by image, name, and something called ‘floriographic meaning’. (The website’s definition of floriography is ‘the language of flowers, used to communicate messages cryptographically’.)

The flowers in her bouquet are all in the database, and none of them have any weird side effects listed.

Roxanne frowns at the computer screen and taps a pencil on her desk.

Hmm. Okay. That’s—well, it should be reassuring, but mostly it’s just—odd.

On a whim, she checks the flower language meaning of one of the blooms, and then she nearly drops her pencil in shock.

Apple blossom—temptation.

_(temptress)_

That’s—that’s probably just her reading too much into this, right?

(her heart is beating oddly hard and fast, and her face is hot again.)

She clicks on the next flower in her bouquet, reads the floriographic meaning.

Iris—a message.

A message.

Temptress.

A message—for her?

(floriography does seem like the nerdy, obscure sort of thing that Megamind would be interested in—)

She looks up the rest of the meanings.

There’s peach blossoms, which apparently mean ‘I am your captive’ (she blushes even harder at that); daffodils, which can evidently stand either for happiness or unrequited love (that’s…confusing); bluebells, which mean delicacy (she doesn’t quite get that one, but—maybe he’s using the color as a signature?); gardenias, which mean either joy or secret love (what is it with the confusing double meanings?); clematis, which means mental beauty (or maybe he’s using the clematis as the signature? unless…’mental beauty’—surely that’s not a compliment meant for her—); cypress, which means despair (why despair?); and red tulips, which stand for—

—a declaration of love.

Roxanne does drop her pencil. this time.

She reads the line again.

_Red tulips. A declaration of love._

A—a declaration of love, and that means the gardenias probably do stand for secret love and the daffodils for unrequited love, and that’s why he added cypress for despair and oh god

oh god she can’t breathe

Megamind—Megamind is in love with her?

Roxanne clutches the edge of her desk, needing to ground herself, because she is reeling, not just from the shock of the revelation (Megamind is in love with her. Megamind.) but from the sheer, utterly unexpected pulse of joy that goes through her in answer to the thought.

What—why is she happy about this? She can’t possibly be in—

Oh—oh, she is, isn’t she?

Oh no.

Roxanne makes a small, choked noise and only refrains from hiding beneath her desk because she is frozen in terror.

What.

What is she going to do?

Roxanne reaches for the book of poems in a sort of daze, opens it, and starts to read.

The book isn’t long; it takes her only about twenty minutes to finish the whole thing. It’s—it’s a very intense twenty minutes, though.

She’s pretty sure he must have selected all of the poems individually, and printed the book himself; there’s no publisher’s mark, and all of the poems have different authors.

And each of the poems is—they are all very beautiful and very romantic.

Extremely romantic. This is—this is by far the most romantic gift that Roxanne has ever been given.

She turns to the last page, and—blinks in confusion.

This isn’t a love poem; it’s the opening soliloquy from Shakespeare’s Richard the Third; she recognizes it from her college english class. Why would he— 

> _But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks_  
>  _Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;_  
>  _I, that am rudely stamped, and want love's majesty_  
>  _To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;_  
>  _(wait—unrequited love, the daffodils stood for, and cypress for despair)_
> 
> _I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion,_  
>  _Cheated of feature by dissembling Nature,_  
>  _Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time_  
>  _Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,_  
>  _And that so lamely and unfashionable_  
>  _That dogs bark at me as I halt by them—_

(but—Richard is talking about how ugly he is, how he’s—)

> _Why I, in this weak piping time of peace,_  
>  _Have no delight to pass away the time,_  
>  _Unless to spy my shadow in the sun_  
>  _And descant on mine own deformity._

(Megamind calls himself ‘incredibly handsome’ but she knows how other people talk about the way he looks and he must know that, too, and—)

> _And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover_
> 
> _To entertain these fair well-spoken days,_  
>  _I am determined to prove a villain_  
>  _And hate the idle pleasures of these days._

(since I cannot prove a lover, I am determined to prove a villain)

Is—is that—

Is that an offer to give up villainy for her? Is that what he’s trying to say?

Can that possibly be what he’s trying to say?

There are no more poems after the soliloquy, and so, in frustration—why can’t he just say that, if he means that—she turns again to the first page, reads over the first poem again.

> _your slightest look easily will unclose me_  
>  _though i have closed myself—_

Roxanne closes the book, eyes wide, heart slamming against her ribcage.

Oh.

Oh, wow.

Oh, wow, this is—

Roxanne looks at the clock. Almost noon; Megamind will probably show up to kidnap her on her lunch break; he always has an evil plot planned for Valentine’s Day, and surely he’s going to want to see her, after sending her this message; surely he’s going to want—

—her answer.

How is she going to answer?

(yes, of course; the answer is yes; it would have been yes, she realizes, even if he hadn’t offered to give up villainy, which probably says something worrying about her morals, but she doesn’t really care about that right now because she needs to find a suitably romantic way to indicate to Megamind that the answer is definitely yes—)

An idea hits her; she turns again to her laptop, to the floriography website, and scrolls quickly through the database of meanings, looking for—

There. Perfect.

Now she just has to find a florist that hasn’t sold out of red carnations. Before Megamind shows up.

* * *

 

Roxanne, sitting outside the coffee shop, nervously tears her croissant into pieces and resists the urge to touch the red carnation she has pinned in her hair.

This is happening; she can’t believe she’s doing this.

What is taking Megamind so long? She wants this to be happening now.

(Roxanne has never been good at waiting for the things she wants)

She bites her lip—maybe she should check the placement of the flower again? And her makeup, maybe she should check her—

Roxanne stands, turns and—

Walks into a cloud of knockout spray.

She’s smiling when Megamind pulls the bag off of her head.

“Miss Ritchi; we meet again,” Megamind says, and Roxanne blinks, surprised.

He’s opening with his usual line? That’s—all right, maybe he’s waiting for her to set the tone for the conversation.

She smiles a little more warmly at him.

“Finally!” she says, “It felt like I was waiting at that coffee shop forever!”

Megamind is the one who blinks this time.

Then he—

—frowns.

(what? why is he—)

“You may have anticipated today’s kidnapping, Miss Ritchi,” Megamind says, gesturing dramatically, “but I am certain that today’s evil plot will leave you shocked and dismayed!”

(—wait, this—this isn’t right! he’s supposed to—doesn’t he see the flower; doesn’t he get it?)

“Do you like what I’ve done with my hair today, Megamind?” Roxanne blurts out desperately.

Megamind, who has turned away to the console, looks over his shoulder, looks down his nose at her.

“A flower; very romantic, Miss Ritchi,” he says, tone dismissive, and Roxanne’s heart twists painfully.

“—that’s…good; it’s—meant to be,” Roxanne says, willing him to understand, to turn and face her properly, to come over to her chair and tilt her face up to his and kiss her. “You see, I—got a present. Today. A gift. For Valentine’s Day.”

Megamind goes still for a long second, and then turns to her.

(good; yes; thank god)

“Oh?” he asks, voice casual.

“Yes,” Roxanne says. “There were flowers. And a question…”

“—oh,” Megamind says, and she thinks she hears a crack in his tone of indifference.

“Are you familiar with floriography, Megamind?” Roxanne asks.

There’s a pause.

“…I’ve read a few books, yes,” he says.

“Do you know what a red carnation means, then?”

Megamind’s expression—

“Yes,” he says flatly, eyes shuttered, face blank. “It means ‘yes’.”

Roxanne’s heart feels like he’s reached into her chest and crumpled it. Why is he looking at her like that, if he knows what it means? Why doesn’t he kiss her?

“—yes,” she says. “It—it means yes. So that’s…my answer. To the question.”

There is a long silence. (Roxanne feels her heart break during it.)

“Well, that’s fascinating, Miss Ritchi,” Megamind says, finally, voice caustic, arching an eyebrow, “Perhaps now we can get back to the evil plot.”

He turns away to the console again.

* * *

 

Roxanne doesn’t cry then, doesn’t cry during the rescue, doesn’t cry during her broadcast. She doesn’t cry until she gets home to her apartment, and then she lies down in her bed and clutches a pillow to her chest and she cries and she cries and she cries until she runs out of tears.

(she does, eventually, run out of tears.)

So.

It seems that the Valentine’s Day gift from Megamind was, in fact, either a joke or a trick, meant to taunt her for her feelings. (Megamind is smart; Megamind could easily have picked up on the fact that she’s in love with him before Roxanne even realized).

This is not the end of the world, but Roxanne wishes that it was.

Unfortunately, though, the world keeps happening; life keeps happening; she goes to work and she smiles and she talks to people and she pretends that her heart isn’t broken.

The week seems to last forever, but finally the weekend arrives and she’s able to go home and be alone with her heartache. She takes the flowers and the book with her; she’s had to leave them on her desk all week, so that no one suspects anything odd about the gifts, about Roxanne’s emotional state.

The flowers are wilting now; she shoves them into the trash, vase and all, weeping, then curls up on her couch. (she can’t quite bring herself to throw away the book, and she hates herself for it, for being so weak.)

The text message alert on her phone goes off; Roxanne scrubs at her face with the sleeve of her sweater and looks at the screen.

> _hey forgot to ask if u liked the flowers_  
>  _—wayne_

Roxanne stares at the words. If she—if she liked the flowers.

She calls Wayne.

“What do you mean, if I liked the flowers?” she says, as soon as he answers the phone. “Did—did you send me flowers, Wayne?”

“Oh, hey, Roxy! Yeah, sorry, my mom’s been really on me this year about not being romantic enough for my girlfriend, you know, and the whole Valentine’s Day thing is a big deal for her… I bought it really late; they said they only had a lot of stuff nobody else wanted, so it probably looked kinda weird—”

“You sent me flowers,” Roxanne says, feeling numb. “You. Sent them. You—”

“Yeah, didn’t you know they were from me? The florist said they included a card…”

“You sent me a bouquet of flowers and a card with your logo on it?” Roxanne hisses into the phone.

“What? My—my logo?”

“M! For Metro Man!” Roxanne whisper-shrieks.

“No, I told them to sign the card with a W. You know. For Wayne,” he laughs. “They must have put the card in upside down. Hey, what’s that noise?”

“Nothing,” Roxanne says bitterly, smacking her own head against the wall again.

It wasn’t from Megamind.

It wasn’t from Megamind, which, hey—silver lining—means that he wasn’t mocking her or trying to be cruel, on Valentine’s Day, except that also means that the message wasn’t from him and Roxanne is still in love with a supervillain who doesn’t return her feelings and everything is awful.

“Did you call a bookstore and make a salesperson pick out the book for you, too?” she asks Wayne, wanting to be angry with someone besides her stupid self.

“What book?” Wayne asks.

Roxanne, pacing her kitchen floor, stops cold.

“The book that came with the flowers,” she says slowly. “The book of poetry.”

“I didn’t send a book with the flowers,” Wayne says.

Roxanne sits down on her kitchen floor.

“Anyway, Roxy, I’m gonna have to—”

“Wayne, you’re going to have to stop pretending to your mother that we’re dating,” Roxanne blurts out.

“—to—wait, what? Why?” Wayne says, “Roxy—”

(because if Wayne didn’t send that book, then there’s still the smallest chance that Megamind did)

“I found someone I want to date for real, Wayne,” Roxanne says, pulling her knees to her chest. “Or—well. Not found. Realized. Realized that I want to date for real.”

“…oh,” Wayne sighs. “Well. I guess—good luck, then.”

“Thank you,” Roxanne says, then bites her lip, remembering the meaning she’d originally ascribed to the last poem in the book, coupled with the first.

_(since I cannot prove a lover / I am determined to prove a villain / your slightest look easily will unclose me / though i have closed myself)_

(the possibility of Megamind wanting not to be a villain any more, and if he wants that, then Roxanne wants him to have it, wants to help him)

“—Wayne,” Roxanne says, “if—hypothetically, if I—convinced Megamind—to stop being a supervillain…would you leave him alone?”

There’s a moment of silence.

“Uh,” Wayne says. “I mean—yeah, I guess? Why do you—wait. Is—is Megamind the person who you figured out that you want to date?!”

“Yes,” Roxanne says, a dangerous edge to her voice, “he is, actually.”

“…huh.”

Roxanne waits, but Wayne doesn’t say anything else.

“‘Huh!’?!” she says, at last “That’s all you have to say?! I’ve realized that I’m in love with a supervillain and all you’ve got to give me is ‘huh’?!”

“I mean, the whole romance thing is weird to me, but I guess you guys sort of make sense together,” Wayne says.

Roxanne collapses back on her kitchen floor, her hand over her eyes.

“So you guys are dating now, then?” Wayne asks.

Roxanne groans.

“No,” she says. “I don’t know if he wants to, even; I’m going to have to talk to him and try to see…”

“Oh,” Wayne says. “Well, uh—like I said, good luck. You really think you might be able to talk him into quitting supervillainy?” His voice sounds hopeful.

“I think—I think maybe he wants to be talked out of supervillainy,” Roxanne says.

“Really?”

Roxanne runs her hand through her hair.

“Yeah,” she says. “If I’m—if I’m reading him right. I might not be. I don’t know.”

She bites the inside of her cheek, doubt assailing her. This is crazy. She’s crazy.

“…hey, Roxy,” Wayne says, voice hesitant. “Do you—do you think I should tell my mom? About…me?”

Roxanne sits up and leans against her kitchen cabinets. She rubs her hand over her face.

“Do you want to tell her?” she asks.

“I—yeah, I think I do,” Wayne says. “I just—I want to feel like I can be myself, you know? I feel like I have to—pretend, all the time, with—with a lot of things. Actually. Not just—I don’t want to have to pretend, anymore.”

“If you want to tell her, then I think you should tell her,” Roxanne says. “You deserve to stop pretending, if you want to.”

“…even if what I want to stop pretending to be is a superhero?” Wayne asks, voice small.

Roxanne takes a sharp breath.

Oh.

“—yeah,” she says. “Even then.”

* * *

 

Waiting does not suit Roxanne’s temperament; her stress level rises every day that she doesn’t see Megamind, every day that she becomes more and more certain that he can’t really love her back.

Wayne does tell Lady Scott; she cries, evidently, and then hugs him and tells him she’s proud to be his mother.

Roxanne tells Wayne she’s happy for him, when he calls to tell her, and she is happy for him, but she’s also ready to climb the walls of her apartment in her anxiety, and she considers making Wayne take her to the Lair so she can get this over with, but she doesn’t think breaking into Megamind’s home is a good start to asking him out—yes, he’s broken into her house plenty of times, but never in a romantic context, and Roxanne really doesn’t want to screw this up.

So she waits.

* * *

 

She waits for two whole weeks and it feels like a year, but finally—finally!—she wakes up one day to darkness and the sound of Megamind’s voice and then he pulls the bag off her head.

And—god, but she’s missed him. Just seeing his face again sends a sharp pulse of joy through her; she wants to—to look at him until she’s memorized all of his features perfectly, wants to cup his face in her palms and learn the texture of his skin, trace the sharp edges of his cheekbones and brush away the tired shadows from beneath his eyes.

“—hey,” she breathes, completely idiotically. “Hey, Megamind.”

Megamind pauses for a moment. Then he jerks his head in a sharp motion of acknowledgement.

“Miss Ritchi,” he says. “—once again, I have you in the clutches of my evil!”

“—so it turns out I actually got two Valentine’s Day gifts,” Roxanne blurts out, not wanting to let Megamind get into full monologue mode.

His eyes go flat and his eyebrows snap together in a frown.

“How nice for you,” he says, “having a rich boyfriend who can afford to indulge you during meaningless human holidays.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Roxanne says.

An expression flashes across Megamind’s face for a moment, but only for a moment, and then the mask of boredom is back in place. It’s not perfect, though; when he smiles, it’s sharp and bitter, and his hands curl into fists.

“Of course,” he bites out, “my apologies, Miss Ritchi. Your fiancé. Tell me, have you set a date yet for the happy event?”

Roxanne stares at him.

“Wh—?” she says. “Fiancé? What—are you talking about, Megamind?”

His lips press briefly together in a hard line, then he smiles again, a smile that definitely does not reach his eyes.

“Come now, Miss Ritchi,” he says, “you’ve already given the game away, twice. Or are you forgetting our little conversation about floriography that we had on Valentine’s Day?”

“…our conversation about floriography?” Roxanne asks, frowning, utterly lost. “How did you get ‘engaged’ from that conversation?”

“The bouquet of flowers and the question,” Megamind says, with a sharp gesture, and he’s not smiling now, not at all. “And the red carnation in your hair that meant ‘yes’.”

“…oh,” Roxanne says, understanding dawning.

Megamind’s lips curve up again in that unhappy smile, and Roxanne wants to put her arms around him and make him stop looking so miserable, but if he’s this upset about the possibility of her being engaged to someone else, then maybe—

_(please, please, please)_

“—the carnation was for you,” she says, “the—I—I thought you were—I thought you had. Asked me a question.”

Megamind goes still and frozen, his lips parted and his eyes round.

“…like I said,” Roxanne says, “I got two gifts on Valentine’s Day. And—and one of them—one of them was a book.”

Megamind is staring at her still; she doesn’t think he’s breathing, even.

“Are you—” Roxanne swallows, “—are you so very determined to prove a villain, Megamind?”

Her voice is quiet, but it echoes in the Lair. Megamind stands like a statue for another long, breathless moment, and Roxanne’s heart hangs in the balance.

“—your slightest look will unclose me,” Megamind says, his voice shaking, “you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens—

“I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees,” Roxanne says softly, watching Megamind’s expression, watching joy bloom in his face, just as joy is blooming in Roxanne’s heart.

“—oh,” he gasps, stumbling forward to untie her, “—oh—”

And Roxanne tips her head up and kisses him as he’s reaching for the ropes.

 

**Author's Note:**

> notes: poems quoted are somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond by e.e. cummings (your slightest look will easily unclose me) and Every Day You Play by Pablo Neruda (I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.)
> 
> Happy Valentine’s Day! Much love to you, my dear readers, from Set!


End file.
